I shrugged. “He’s going to be my husband.”
Carly was quiet for a moment. “This man . . . Zakai. You were . . . forced to be with him?”
“No, it wasn’t like that.” I drifted, allowing my mind to return to Sundara, to the room that we’d once shared. “We fell into a physical relationship very naturally, perhaps in the way young people not related and growing up in close proximity might.” I stared behind her, traveling back over that vast golden desert. “We had been sleeping in the same bed for most of our lives. As our bodies changed, we turned to each other, learning, exploring.” I heard myself speaking as though in a trance as my mind envisioned that time, the New York City sidewalk melting into sand. “It was all I could think about. Some days we barely left our bedroom to eat food, so caught up in the incredible pleasure we’d discovered. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating, suddenly not just the boy who protected me and brought me comfort and security, but the one who made my body sing. We had no one to tell us what to do, but we took great joy in figuring it out.” I brought my gaze to Carly’s who was staring at me as though enraptured. “Of course, the man who had made us captives eventually noticed and so he told us it was time to perform. We looked very much alike, and he had already planned what our act would consist of. Brother and sister—twins—who engaged in unnatural acts. Taboo, depraved. Highly intoxicating for those who enjoyed the idea of twisted, filthy things.” A tornado of shame whirled through me as I again, looked past her. “Sex changed for me then, but I knew the others performed as well, and they seemed fine, so I did what I had to do, what was insisted on.”
“My God, Karys. You work in a publishing house so you must know it’s true when I say that truth is stranger than fiction and your story is quite an example of that.”
I smiled distantly. “Yes.” After a moment I went on. “Zakai and I agreed that we would never give the audience all of us. We would fake our completion, and only give to each other in that way. One night when we returned to our bed, Zakai accidentally pulled my hair. He could see by my reaction that it had intensified my pleasure. I loved it. That combination of bliss and pain. After a while, I craved it.” I furrowed my brow, trying to explain this part of myself I’d only recently explored in my mind.
“Do you know why?”
“Because I knew I was happily accepting the lies Zakai told and making him punish me for it,” I whispered brokenly as despair gripped me in its knife-edged talons.
Perhaps Zakai had blinded me. But I had been eager not to see.
I looked down, my face warming. “Recently, I’ve enjoyed it when Dawson hurts me too,” I said quietly.
When I dared look up at Carly, she was drumming her fingers on the table. There was no judgment in her expression, only a thoughtful sort of concentration. I released a breath of relief, and it gave me the confidence to continue. “I think I’ve been lying to myself again, Carly. I think that’s why the . . . violence for lack of a better word, feels right. Feels good. I’m still not over the hurt I feel inside about Zakai’s rejection and betrayal. And I think . . . well, I think I needed to admit that before I can marry Dawson.” I said the last sentence in a rush of words, grateful that she’d allowed me to do the one thing I believed I needed to do in order to walk down that aisle with a clear head and a willing heart. Confess.
I was still deeply hurt about Zakai, and wanted to present myself to Dawson free and clear of the vestiges of that relationship that might interfere with our marriage.
Carly tilted her head. “Are you sure?”
“Sure about what?”
“Are you sure that’s what you’re lying to yourself about?”
I looked away. I knew what she was suggesting. She was suggesting the lie was not about my feelings for Zakai, but rather my feelings for Dawson. I shook my head. “No,” I insisted. Because I wouldn’t consider that. I finally had someone who loved me. Who wanted to cherish me and was proud of all that I had achieved. Yes, he didn’t want anything to do with my past, but he wanted me in his future. As his future. And I would run toward that, not hide and shrink as I’d done so often in my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Minnie planned what she called an “intimate” engagement party and what I categorized as a blowout. “Since the wedding is small, we have to invite all the people who didn’t get an invitation to the wedding, to the engagement party,” she explained, giving her head a small shake as if the never-ending explanations I required on social etiquette exhausted her.
Small? Three hundred people was small?
The party was held in the ballroom of one of the most opulent hotels in the city and when I walked into the room with Dawson, the scene nearly stole my breath. Flowers spilled from tall glass vases, gold silverware sparkling from the exquisitely set tabletops. A three-piece orchestra played in the corner, and waitstaff in white shirts and black ties passed out hors d’oeuvres from shiny silver platters.
It was perfect. Every flower petal. Every sparkling crystal flute.
Icy drips of panic rolled down my spine.
“Are you all right?” Dawson asked, leaning in, the smile remaining on his face as he spoke between his teeth.
I nodded my head jerkily. “It’s just so beautiful,” I said. “I can hardly speak.”
Dawson leaned away, greeting someone who came up beside him as I took the moment to calm myself. Ever since that day at the café with Carly when I’d told her my story, something had been building inside me, something nebulous and confusing that I kept pushing away so I could focus on the hundreds of wedding errands Minnie kept sending my way. I also had my job, which I still loved, but every day was exhausting.
I mingled and I smiled, the undefined feeling continuing to expand inside of me, growing exponentially bigger when I realized Dawson, who had left my side, was nowhere to be seen. “Karys, would you be a dear and go fetch Dawson for me? The CEO of the biggest bank in the City just arrived.” And then she flitted off, waving at someone across the room. Why did I get the sudden feeling my life would be spent “fetching” things on Minnie’s behalf? I choked out a small cough as my chest grew tighter.
In truth, I was grateful to get away, even for a few minutes. I headed down the empty carpeted hallway toward the men’s room. The door to a lounge stood halfway open and I startled as Dawson came through, his head lowered as he wiped what looked like white powder from his nostrils. I stopped just as he noticed me. “Karys, hey.” He came over and kissed me on the forehead.
“You’re doing drugs, Dawson,” I said.
His shoulders tensed. It appeared he was going to lie but then he let out a breath, wrapping his hand around my wrist and pulling me through the door into the room he’d just been in. I shook his hand free of my arm, stepping away.
“For Christ’s sake, Karys,” he said. “It’s just to take the edge off, okay?” He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it slightly messy. It made him look younger, unusually imperfect. “This wedding . . . and the market’s so damn volatile,” he murmured, slumping forward a little. Confusion made me pause. I didn’t know this version of Dawson. He always seemed so confident, so controlled. My heart softened.